


Survivor

by Laelior



Category: Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Backstory, Colonist (Mass Effect), Mindoir, Teenage Shepard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-15
Updated: 2019-10-15
Packaged: 2020-12-16 16:03:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21038927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laelior/pseuds/Laelior
Summary: Focus on the target. Be aware of your surroundings, but don’t let them distract you,Mom’s voice intoned at her. It was good advice, as always, especially with all of the noise surrounding her. The sound of stampeding feet, shrieks, a gunshot firing off right next to her and the sound of filthy epithets as the shooter missed the target, the brays of mildly alarmed livestock. She kept her focus, exhaling as she zeroed in on the target in the crosshairs. She moved her finger to the trigger, and pulled.





	Survivor

**Author's Note:**

> CW: graphic violence, references to the deaths of children.
> 
> This is a Colonist Shepard's backstory. It does not have a happy ending. The first half is light reading, the second half is not.

Bethany Shepard stared down the sights of her rifle at her target, her finger sitting just off of the trigger.

_ Focus on the target. Be aware of your surroundings, but don’t let them distract you _, Mom’s voice intoned at her. It was good advice, as always, especially with all of the noise surrounding her. The sound of stampeding feet, shrieks, a gunshot firing off right next to her and the sound of filthy epithets as the shooter missed the target, the brays of mildly alarmed livestock. She kept her focus, exhaling as she zeroed in on the target in the crosshairs. She moved her finger to the trigger, and pulled.

The shot reverberated in her ears and the rifle’s kickback sent a shock through her shoulder. The glass bottle exploded off of the fence post 15 yards away in a cloud of smoke, green shards flying everywhere. 

“Good shot, Beth!” Meg Shepard’s high voice piped up from behind her. Beth grinned, pulled the rifle's chamber open to eject the spent, lightly smoking casing, and carefully set the old gun down against the bale of hay next to her. She strode over to where her younger sister was playing an energetic game of tag with the family dog.

“She got lucky,” another voice said. Ben Shepard gave her a disgusted look and set his rifle down next to hers.

“I hit three of five. Not my fault you shot your load off early on that last bottle.” She walked up to her older brother and held out her hand. “I won, now pay up.”

“Fine,” Ben grumbled. He fished around in his pocket and shoved a crumpled piece of paper into her hand. 

“I’m going to frame this for all of Mindoir to see,” Beth said, unfolding the paper. “Behold, the list of chores my idiot brother has to do because he thought he could beat me with Mom’s old bolt action antiques!” She held the paper triumphantly over her head. “With Meg as my witness, I’ll never wash dishes again. At least until next week.”

Ben snorted disgustedly, then turned to their younger sister. “C’mon, Meg. It’s your turn. Let’s find some more targets so you can practice.” 

“Maybe next time I’ll give you a handicap, Five yards back sound good?” Beth taunted as the two of them started off for the shed behind the family barn, the dog following Meg as always.

“Yeah? At least I’m not a freak,” Ben laughed, looking over his shoulder at her.

“Is that really the best you can do, Ben?” She rolled her eyes. “_ Meg _ comes up with better comebacks than that.”

“Hey!” Meg shouted from her usual spot on the sidelines of the sibling rivalry, affronted by faint praise.

“Freeeaaaaaak,” Ben teased, turning around to make a face at her. Beth felt like if she rolled her eyes any harder this time, they’d roll straight into the back of her head and never return. It was an ineffectual insult at he knew it. She’d been called far worse by the kids at school, and he’d even bloodied a few of their noses on her behalf for saying them. But there were certain formalities that had to be observed between siblings. She put her hands together to crack her knuckles and then lazily rolled her shoulders.

“Shut up, Ben.” She charged at him, shoulder first right into his center of gravity. Just like Sensei Luis taught her. But she missed and caught him at an angle. Instead of flipping him over her shoulder, they both went tumbling to the ground. She managed to scramble on top of him before he could recover and grab his arms.

“That was weak, Beth. Even _ Meg _ can tackle better than that,” Ben shot at her. That, at least, was true. The youngest Shepard somehow managed to out-grapple either of them in the dojo despite her small stature. 

“Hey!” Meg shouted again, but she sounded pleased this time. She held the dog by the collar to keep him from getting involved in the fray while he barked and strained excitedly.

“You’re cruisin’ for a bruisin’, Shepard,” Beth growled mockingly. She raised a fist and concentrated. She was pleased when it began to glow a faint blue. It was getting easier to control. She was well aware of Meg’s fascinated eyes fixed on her. _ This _ was something she could teach her sister that Ben couldn’t. “I will _ destroy _ you.”

“Bethany! Benjamin!” Papa’s voice cracked through the air like a whip. All three Shepard children froze, Bethany with her glowing fist elevated over her brother’s head, Ben with his arms raised defensively, and Meg with her hands covering her mouth as their father strode over to the melee. She pushed herself to her feet and rubbed her hands against the rough fabric of her jeans. Her black hair had become dislodged from her ponytail in the tussle and fell messily across her face.

“Ben,” Papa said, fixing his oldest child with a disapproving stare. Ben also scrambled to his feet and kept his eyes on the ground. “You will _ not _ call your sister a freak, no matter how much she annoys you. Is that clear?”

Ben muttered something under his breath that sounded like an affirmative.

“Papa,” Bethany started in, wanting to explain, to vindicate her brother. Annoying shit and terrible shot though he was. But he cut her off with a glance.

“You two may fight and rough house, but _ no one _ in our family is a freak. Understood?” His gaze now encompassed all of his children.

“Yes, Papa,” Beth and Ben said in firm unison. She shot him surprised glance just as he looked at her, also startled.

“Now Beth….” Papa turned toward her, arms crossed sternly in front of him. She met her father’s stare unflinchingly, bracing herself for the tongue-lashing she knew was coming about controlling her biotics. That _ had _ been controlled, but she didn’t expect him to understand it. “If you’re going to shoulder-toss your brother, do it _ right. _” 

She blinked at the unexpected nature of the critique, then grinned. “I just need more practice, I guess.”

Papa chuckled, his stern demeanor breaking down, and mussed her hair. “Doing it right makes it less likely for either of you to get hurt.”

“Maybe next time I’ll give you a handicap. One arm tied behind my back,” Ben said in a near-perfect imitation her own offer earlier. Only Papa’s firm hand on her shoulder stopped her from trying to shoulder-toss her brother again.

* * *

Two weeks later, Mom’s advice about shooting came in handy again. 

She stared down the sights of the rifle, categorically refusing the let the tears or the blood from the cut on her forehead cloud her vision or be bothered by just how goddamn cold it was in the barn in her torn pajamas. She _ would not _ be distracted by the sights, the sounds, the smells...the _ smells _. Her stomach roiled, almost rebelling again. 

“I’m not going to tell you again, put the fucking thing down!” A guttural voice growled at her.

Her finger trembled as she placed it on the trigger, and then pulled.

She couldn’t miss. Not at this close of a range.

The shot reverberated through her entire body as the rifle back slammed into her shoulder. The batarian’s head didn’t explode. Not like the bottles did. He kept advancing on her until a small hole appeared under his lower left eye and his mouth formed an “O” of surprise. Then the back of his head blew open, spraying dark blood and grey bits against the wall of the barn. He fell limply to the floor with a dull thud. The other batarian in the barn looked at her in shock.

“Little _ shi—” _

Before he could recover, before he could aim his shotgun at her, she clutched her rifle close to her chest and threw herself at him, catching him just below the sternum with her shoulder, then she turned into him, grabbed his arm, and tossed him to the ground. He flipped over her shoulder and landed on the ground behind her on his back. She turned and slammed the butt of the bolt-action rifle down on his exposed throat, feeling the sickening, satisfying _ crack _ of breaking bone vibrate through the weapon, followed by a wet, gurgling sound.

He didn’t move again after that.

The barn was silent, except for her ragged breaths. No sounds of livestock, not even the dog. She was alone. Just two dead batarians and her, after Ben had….

Just two dead batarians and her and…. 

She fell to her knees, ignoring the scrape of dirt against her skin. Smoke from the burning house nearby filled her nostrils. And the scent of burning flesh. _ Oh god, Papa. Mom. _ She emptied the contents of her stomach again, tasting nothing but bile.

Boots thudded outside the barn, forcing her outside of her thoughts. She scrambled for her rifle and positioned herself over the prone form of her sister.

Meg. _ Oh god _. Lying on the ground. Her dark hair matted with blood. She was so quiet, so still. 

She couldn't even let herself think about Ben.

No. No distractions. She pulled the chamber open and loaded another shot in just as a booted foot kicked the barn door in. She raised the rifle, lined up her shot. Pulled the trigger as soon as she could make out the shape of a fully armored humanoid holding an advanced-looking rifle.

The bullet glowed blue as it hit a kinetic barrier and bounced harmlessly to the ground.

“Hey—” The armored figure swung around to stare at her, then at the two dead batarians. “_Shit. _ Tell the LT we’ve got a survivor.” 

Another armored figure stepped into the barn and immediately held its arms up, walking toward her slowly. “Hey, kid. It’s okay. You’re safe now. You can put the gun down.”

Safe? The word bounded around in her head. It meant something, but she didn’t understand it. The figures put their weapons down and approached her slowly. She crouched down protectively over Meg, clutching the empty rifle to her chest, and suddenly the world was blue. Blue fire danced over her skin, crackled along her nerves. It burned with the force of her rage, her helplessness, fueling the flames higher and higher.

“Stay _ away _!” She screamed and the blue exploded out from her. Both figures stumbled back under the force of the explosion. The walls of the barn creaked and dust shook from the rafters.

“_Fuck! _ ” The first one exclaimed. “She’s one of _ those _…”

The second soldier put up a hand to silence the first one and removed their helmet, kneeling to set it on the ground. Two eyes. Not four. Hair on top of the head. _ Human _. A woman. An emblem of a white split chevron on a blue field with three white stars under it. Alliance. A small strangled cry came loose from her throat.

“It’s okay. You’re okay. We’ve got you now, kid. It’s okay,” the woman said soothingly.

The world started going black at the edges of her vision and she felt the strength drain out of her. The rifle slid from her suddenly boneless arms and hit the floor, butt-first, with a thud. The ground rose up to meet her, but before she could hit it the soldier wrapped her arms around her. The armor felt ice cold where it pressed against her skin.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart, we’ve got you,” she heard as the darkness closed in on her. “Hey, can we get a medic here? Poor kid ...”

Then it all fell away.

“She survived this, though, she can survive anything.”

**Author's Note:**

> If this wasn't dark enough for you, I also have various fics and drabbles on [tumblr](http://laelior.tumblr.com/), too.


End file.
